


Life Ain’t No Faire Tale

by Ark666



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Arthur Whump, Autistic!John, Book References, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, I can’t tag, M/M, Movie References, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Whump, autocorrect is god, heed the tags, heed the warnings, i can’t spell, i should’ve been writing my other works, no beta we die like men, soulmark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-05 06:31:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18823048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ark666/pseuds/Ark666
Summary: When set out to meet the O’Driscolls for the first time Arthur meets his soulmate. He just happened to get the worst one, and under the worst possible circumstances/ backgrounds as well. Along the way he deals with being an older brother, his parents that are hellbent in educating him, learning, and crippling depression because of PTSD.Side story: watch John grow up in a gang where he has high functioning autism. (I did my research). Watch how he struggles to communicate and navigate a world of outlaws. Most importantly how he deals with gunfire because that shit’s too loud.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I spent my past couple of days writing this, and this is about half of what I wrote. I just like typing bite sized chapters after my first account of a minimum of 5,000 words per a chapter. It helps me overcome some of my obsessive thoughts. 
> 
> Anyways comment because I want that tea. If you want to see a reference also comment. I love books, and making references to obscure shit.

“Hosea!!!!” Arthur whined shifting in his seat like it was the most uncomfortable thing in the world. He was twenty three and still being taught literature and math like a child. In Hosea’s defense the young man didn’t even know how to read when he was found on the streets. 

“Complaining doesn’t make it any less wrong...Why did Hamlet leave his home?” Hosea asked picking up the Shakespearean play off the table. 

“He was sick of home,” Arthur shrugged which earned his hand a smack from the book. 

“No,” Hosea sighed. “Hamlet left home because he knew his father’s killer was his uncle, and that he knew he wasn’t able to fight against the king at such a young age. He’s about John’s age you know, at the beginning. His stepfather would’ve murdered him as well to keep his throne that he stole. Not only did he steal the throne, but he also stole Hamlet’s mother as well. Don’t you remember the joke Hamlet made to his friend Horatio? ‘They served the same food at the wedding as they did the funeral.’ Seriously son, do you not pay any attention to your studies?”

“What do I need learnin’ for?” Arthur said not absorbing a thing Hosea had just told him. That earned him a smack on the head and another few books to read. Oedipus the King, from Dutch; Pride and Prejudice, from Bessie; The Holy Catholic Bible, from Annabelle; a dime novel from Susan, it was a porno much to Arthur’s delight; and Beowulf, from Hosea. 

He spent the next week only reading and being questioned by everyone who gave him what book. To Annabelle though she seemed to enjoy making him discuss with her on what she wanted him to read, and therefore he didn’t have to read the entire damn bible. Susan didn’t need to question him to know that he was reading her book. Pink faced and laying on his stomach she knew. 

Dutch wasn’t too happy to be down a gun for the week, but he needed to teach John some manners anyways. Worst of all he needed to give him the talk with Arthur out of earshot because he would snicker and laugh at John. 

Reading all of the stories and with all the soulmates Arthur wondered when he’d get his soulmate. It somewhat saddened him that he hadn’t gotten his yet. Mary had left him for hers when she found out. Broke his heart, but with the promise of his other half he didn’t show up to her house drunk begging for her to take him back. 

“So…” Hosea interrupted his thoughts. He set the book that he’d been reading down. 

“Sorry,” Arthur cast his gaze away. 

“For what?” He rest a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. 

“Sayin’ that learnin’ was stupid basically,” Arthur sheepishly answered. Hosea rubbed his head affectionately. 

“I knew you had a brain in your dense skull. Here,” he set a leather journal in front of Arthur. “You can draw, and write in here to keep it with you at all times. It’s better than all that loose paper around you all the time. I’m almost certain that Dutch and Susan would throw a fit soon about the mess.” 

“Thank you,” He gently picked up the notebook and opened it to feel the material. It was good quality. Better than he deserved he thinks to himself. 

“You’re free to go now if you’d like,” Hosea said beginning to walk away. Quickly Arthur grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Wait!” He let go once he got Hosea turned around and held his arm sheepishly. “How did ya get your soulmark?”

“Me and Dutch were out conning one night and she found out from a distance that we were up to no good so she came right up, slapped me in the face, and said-“ he laughed rethinking it. 

“You dirty bastard!’ That’s what I yelled at him. I pitied him seeing that it came up on his neck not a second later. Being spiteful at the time and in shock he said to me-“ Bessie walked over laughing. 

“I’m only minding my own affairs you harpy witch’. That appeared on her arm instantly as well. Ah well, we laugh about it now, but then it was rather dreadful,” Hosea wrapped his arms around Bessie and gave her a light peck. 

Arthur spaced out after that. He didn’t enjoy seeing the couples being so lovey dovey with each other. He supposed that Susan felt the same, but her soulmate had been killed before she ever met them. A black line on her stomach of a love that never was. At least he didn’t have that, but he shared her pain of loneliness. 

The other gang members, some of them had someone. Some had dead ones never met, and some that had passed in recent years before the gang. Arthur was the only adult in the gang not to have a soulmark yet. 

“Son we are going to meet another leader of freedom from tyranny today now that your prison sentence is up,” Dutch strolled over to his tent wincing seeing all of the papers everywhere. 

“Miss Annabelle wanted to finish talking to me about the story with Abraham and Isaac up on the mountain soon,” Arthur said without thinking earning a chuckle from Dutch.

“If she had her way there’d be a priest here and you’d be a devout catholic away from what we do,” he had to smile at that. Annabelle has really been trying to get through to him with all of her teachings. She didn’t want him to end up a mindless godless monster like so many other criminals were. “It’s fine. We’ll only be gone for a few hours.” 

Arthur nodded and picked up his gun belt and followed the man to the horses. The leader left Hosea in charge of camp in case the deal went sour. 

It wasn’t a long ride to the area they were meeting at. Secluded, but close by. Arthur supposed it was between the two camps. The other gang was already waiting. Two men, brothers? They stood in front of a small fire. A couple of guards stood near as well. 

“Van Der Linde,” the older of the two spoke up. “Who’s the boy?”

“My son Arthur, Sean O’Driscoll,” Dutch gestured to Arthur who’s face was covered up by his hat still. He was looking at the younger brother who was staring back at him. “What’s your brother’s name again? I’m sorry I’ve just had a lot on my mind of late.”

“Colm,” Sean said for his brother. “Why don’t we stray off slightly to talk. My kid brother don’t need to hear the real men talk.”

“I’m three years younger than than you and I’m thirty seven years old. I really don’t appreciate the teasing no more,” Colm rolled his eyes. His brother laughed and walked off a few yards (or meters) away with Dutch. 

Arthur pulled out a flask from his pocket and took a swig of it. When he noticed the other man staring at it he held it out to him, “Want some, it’s rum?” Colm flinched, but took it anyways. 

“Sure,” Arthur clasped his hand on his ear. It was a warm tingling pain that had been described in all of those books with love stories that he’d read. A deep set fear ran through his body as the flask was handed back to him. He was thankful that his hair covered his ears completely. 

“What do you do for fun as a young gang member besides drink?” Colm asked trying to fill the void of silence. 

“I don’t get much free time...I draw when I can,” Arthur rubbed his neck taking another drink realizing deep in his mind that he just indirectly kissed him. 

“An artist, eh? Don’t see nobody doing that usually in their spare time,” his eyes switched to something more predatory. Arthur could only imagine not finding that you had a soulmate until you were that old that you’d just want to take them right there due to all the loneliness. “Tell me what you do normally then?”

“I uh...I do what I’m told, chores, and I still do schoolwork because I didn’t learn to read until I was sixteen,” he said trying to be vague. Shivers ran down his spine. He didn’t want to be there any longer than he had to. Catching a sympathetic look from the corner of his eye from one of the guards he realized that it wasn’t all in his head. 

“What do you do for schoolwork?” He asked questioning again. 

“Read mostly,” he could tell that he was shrinking up. The man’s eyes raked over him hungrily. Despite them being soulmates, as far as he could tell from the pain and change of demeanors, he was sure that if they were alone or had means to that he would rape him and chain him up to keep him. 

“What do you read then?” He chuckled falsely. “You’re gonna have to be more specific boy.”

“I’m trying to get the heathen to read more philosophical works, but he seems to like those dime novels that one of the women reads more,” Dutch walked back hollering. 

“Dutch!” Arthur exclaimed embarrassed. His cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. The two brothers whispered among themselves. Dutch took the flask out of his hand. He hadn’t realized that he’d been holding it in hand still. Dutch waved it in front of his face. 

“I told you not to drink anymore because of how you get,” Arthur rolled his eyes, though he was thankful for the distraction of his rapidly beating heart. 

“Well that spoils my plan for a drink with you two. Colm can take the boy out hunting while we drink,” Sean laughed already walking off to the horses. 

“Sounds good to me,” fear sunk into Arthur’s core as he walked over to the horses. His breath hitched when a hand placed itself on his shoulder. Realization dawned on him that he’d have to ride with the man. Since they weren’t far away from camp Dutch didn’t find taking two horses necessary. 

Wordlessly he let himself be led to Colm’s horse. He climbed up behind the man and wrapped his arms around him. “We should be back tomorrow,” Colm dryly said before taking off. 

They rode out for a solid hour through the dense brush of the forest until they reached a cabin. Colm didn’t try to make any small talk. They both knew what was going to happen. Pretending it wasn’t going to wouldn’t change anything. Arthur didn’t say anything out of fear for both the gang’s safety as well as his own for having a male as a soulmate. 

Hitching outside the cabin Arthur followed him inside trembling the entire way. Colm shut the door behind him before undressing Arthur searching for the mark wordlessly. When his union suit was taken off he soundlessly cried. The reality that it was going to happen hit him hard. 

“You don’t talk very much do you?” Colm grabbed at his hair to see his neck easier. Arthur shook his head no to the best of his abilities. Tilting his head from side to side he hummed. “There it is. Just wanted to be sure sweetheart” 

He thumbed Arthur’s jaw lightly. The younger man whimpered at the contact. “Please don’t,” he begged watching Colm’s other hand work on undoing his own buttons. 

“Relax…” He cooed lightly pecking Arthur on the forehead. “We’re soulmates, remember. I won’t hurt you. We’re supposed to love each other. This is how we show our love, right?” 

“Please don’t,” Arthur cried again and whimpered, “I’m so scared of you. Please don’t do this.” The older man took off his vest. 

“Oh, Arthur relax. I’ll make you feel really good. Trust me,” his voice was like sweet poison. His shirt joined the ground. He didn’t wear a union suit. His bare skin with the suspenders against it. He closed the gap between him and Arthur that younger didn’t realize he created until his back was against the wall. “Have you ever been with someone before?”

Arthur shook his head no. 

“This is all too perfect now isn’t it my fair maiden,” he grazed a hand lazily over Arthur’s chest. 

“Please don’t!” Arthur begged shuddering as the pants hit the floor. On Colm’s right leg was written with the words he’d said. The man was painfully hard and dripping already. “I beg of you!”

Arthur didn’t fight back one bit when the hands roamed his body and picked him up to take things to the bed. Colm’s hands all over him. He brushed his hair around to see the mark behind his ear. A light kiss was pressed down against it. Arthur whimpered feeling the pressdown of the other man’s chest against him. It didn’t matter that they were soulmates rape was rape. Colm just gazed down tenderly at him rubbing a thumb over the young man’s jawline until he was somewhat passified. 

Placing light kisses on his cheek he then kissed Arthur deeply. He hummed into Arthur’s lips when grinding down on him forced a moan from him. Arthur’s hands held to the bedspread painfully tight. This was wrong. It was all wrong. Faire tail romances weren’t like this. The one was supposed to be at least civil to one another and not flat out like the man he’d just met about to take him. 

A hand tilted his jaw up to force a deeper kiss on him. Colm bit down on his lip to slip his tongue in when the younger man gasped. He cried out and was coughing for air when the kiss was finished. Not noticing that Colm had gotten up and grabbed the tin of hair pomade at the vanity. 

“Please you don’t have to do this,” Arthur begged sitting up and pulling his legs to his chest. Colm hummed in amusement pausing mid walk back to the bed. 

“Now why should I?” Colm asked tilting his head. “Don’t give me a half assed answer neither.”

“This is wrong! Just because we’re soulmates doesn’t make this not wrong! I don’t want this! You scare me! I’m not fighting you because I don’t want nothin’ to happen with the peace that we have between our gangs. It still don’t make it right! Just stop it please! Don’t do it, don’t do it. Nothing needs to happen. I’ll let you hold me, but I’m not ready for this. Don’t do it please,” he broke down feeling another piece of his mind breaking. 

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this, a long time. I’m going to take you here in this room today, in the next few minutes because I want to. I’ve waited years, and years for my soulmate to show up. I don’t care that you’re a male- hell I don’t care that you’re fifteen years younger than me and begging me to stop. I’m going to do this. Nobody can hear you scream, or cry out here. There is nobody. What’s even worse for you is that we have an inseparable bond, and that despite what I’m going to do you’ll still come back to me-“

“You’re forgetting that you’ll never forget what you did here today neither! I’ll fucking kill you, you monster,” Arthur interrupted him. The man got back on the bed and pulled on his ankles to be between his legs. Colm opened up the tin and covered to of his fingers in the substance. 

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn,” he pushed the two fingers in him roughly. Arthur cried hysterically at the sensation and pain of it all. 

He worked the young man open until he thought that he wouldn’t bleed from penetration. Pulling his fingers out he coated his dick up before pushing himself inside him releasing a long shuddering moan. Arthur screamed trying to claw at Colm. The man reacted to this by stroking his member. The hands went to his wrist to stop the action. 

He stopped struggling once Colm started thrusting. Clinging on to his back like it was the only thing that kept him from falling into the abyss. His body betrayed him by getting off to the abuse. There was a spot that was hit over and over in him that made him forget it all. 

Arthur’s eyes rolled around trying to focus on anything other than the man on top of him so called his ‘other half’ by all texts and society. The man who is causing all this physical and emotional pain to be the one and only to compete him. 

Lies all lies! Damned be the lies!

He wailed again. How is it that everyone else was so happy with their soulmate and he got the worst one in his opinion, justifiably. He wondered why couldn’t it have been anyone else, and not some horny bastard looking for an excuse to rape. 

After he came he had to wait for Colm to come as well. The thrusting became unbearable. It was hurting now that he was no longer aroused. His cries became screams the longer it went on. Colm pulled out of him and flipped him onto his stomach and reentered him before he started to fight back at the pain. 

His hips were painfully gripped, and the new angle didn’t help the pain he was feeling. Rubbed raw was a new meaning to him. Arthur wished that he’d used more pomade or something better. The friction was horrendous now. He was thankful when Colm came in him because it meant that the ordeal was done for now. 

Soon after he fell asleep crying in his arms.


	2. ‘Beautiful’ by Eminem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur returns to camp and self destructs when people ask if he’s alright. I think most people with severe mental health issues spontaneously combust when asked that too many times in a row. I know I did when I was severely depressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually rewrote this chapter because I didn’t like how it turned out. I really don’t have a clear end point when I write because I don’t like endings very much. This version of the chapter is a lot less-no... it’s more emotionally volatile, but much more realistic in other ways. How come I ruin everything I touch? It’s just something kept poking in the back of my mind. With that said I gave Arthur severe ptsd in this.

The events of the day ran through his mind over and over again. He didn’t except a horrendous monster of a man to be his soulmate. First his mother died when he was young, then his father was a raging drunk until he was hung, then nearly being murdered for theft over and over again until he was taken in by outlaws. For the first time in his life for a few years he thought things were turning around. For this to happen to him he wonders if he was fated to be miserable. 

He woke up fully dressed and the smell of food coming from the other room. Only turning to face the wall he curled up and cried some more. For the first time in a long while he woke up feeling more drained then when he fell asleep. The door creaked open. 

“I made uh...food,” Colm said reverently. The guilt that the soulmark brings was working on him now. He’d read stories where a someone would kill their soulmate and the heartbreak would soon kill them with guilt. 

“I’m not hungry,” Arthur weakly replied. 

“Listen...we should talk, about everything,” Colm sat down on the bed placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“No,” he wanted the fatigue to pull him back into unconsciousness. 

“We need to Arthur,” he lightly squeezed Arthur’s shoulder. 

“Fine. What about?” Arthur spat still feeling the hurt in his chest. 

“About me and you, you know, what happened last night,” Colm was feeling the same things as Arthur did. It was the marks way of making him feel guilty by forcing him to feel what Arthur felt because of him. 

“You raped me! I kept telling you not to, but you did anyways! I don’t want to see you again after today! I don’t care if we’re supposed to be together. You took my security from me!” Arthur cried curling up into a ball. “I don’t feel safe!”

“I won’t say I’m sorry for what I did because it won’t change anything, but I’m sorry you got stuck with me. It won’t happen again as long as I’m in my right mind, but I can’t promise I won’t. Will you please eat something before we leave?” Colm sighed getting up. 

Wordlessly Arthur got up and sat at the table in the main room. He guessed that the O’Driscolls came through here recently. A plate of cheese and venison was placed in front of him, also a glass of whiskey was as well. They ate in silence before leaving. Arthur did find it odd to walk after last night. Not only did he feel yesterday’s activities, but he also felt shame and a deep unsafety in his walk as well. 

When he finally reached his tent he flopped down on it while the two men talked about whatever. Arthur remembered his journal that he’d gotten yesterday and wrote down his thoughts, feelings, and what had happened. He wished he could examine the mark without anyone noticing at this hour. 

John came over at some point in the day to ask him to play with sticks. The glare that Arthur gave him turning to face the boy had him running the other direction. Hosea came over to scold him and gave him another reading assignment for not taking off his hat which covered his face while they talked. He cried again, but everyone thought it was just another assignment that set him off. They didn’t know, and it wasn’t like they’d believe him anyways, he thought. 

Hosea came back over with a copy of the constitution to read. “All he did was ask you to play with him. You didn’t need to be so mean in rejecting him. Now read this for tomorrow, and then I’ll take you to get your haircut,” he grabbed a piece of hair that hung down in Arthur’s face. The young man swatted the hand away from him. 

“No! I don’t want it cut! Just leave me the hell alone!” He blurted lashing out at Hosea. Arthur broke down letting his head fall to the table sobbing. 

“Arthur…(are you alright)?” Hosea asked him placing a hand on his upper back and leaned down to try and look at him. 

“M’fine!” He snapped jolting away from his adoptive father. Hosea dropped the subject at that accounting it to moodiness. Watching Hosea walk away he picked his journal back up to furiously scribble down words again. 

John sat outside his tent in a tree. The branch hung low enough to be right over it. He’d heard the outburst Arthur had at Hosea. Some of the other people at camp had also noticed, but went back to what they were doing. 

There was part of him that wanted to go comfort Arthur, but the other part didn’t know how to do that. He decided to grab some apples from the nearby tree. Hopping from branch to branch he made his way over to the tree. The best ones were higher up. The ones that the others could get were all bruised on the ground- not that anyone besides Arthur liked raw apples. They liked hard cider for apples. 

Stuffing a few apples in his overall’s pocket he went back to camp walking on the ground. He didn’t want others to know that he was climbing trees. The last time he was caught doing that he was yelled at. It had been Susan to yell at him. Her shrill voice scared him more than Dutch’s booming one when yelling. 

Heading over to Arthur’s tent he crept in quietly and held out the apples to him. After a few moments he took them, but gave one back to John. Arthur’s arm covered up what he was writing down. Faintly between the strands of hair John saw a dark mark behind Arthur’s ear. 

Moving to get a better look Arthur quickly placed a hand over it ashamed. “You can go now John,” Arthur sounded tired and defeated. 

“Is that your soulmark?” John asked pointing. 

“Please John?” Arthur asked him, but the teen seemed oblivious to the hint. John kept trying to get closer to see. “John, please leave.”

“I’ll bring you some more apples later,” John promised. 

“Thank you,” he said nodding and nervously scratching his face. John left him alone after that. Gingerly he ate an apple that John had given him. The ones John picked were always the best of them. He wished that they had an oven so that Bessie would make a pie for them. If uncle got ahold of the apples they’d have cider instead. 

Setting the journal under his pillow he became revolted by eating and went out to the crick nearby. He shoved his fingers roughly down his throat trying to make himself throw up. Not to his contentment he didn’t gag or throw up thinking that his fingers weren’t long enough. However, the attempt made him cry again. 

Since he was here he took off his clothes to clean himself off from where Colm had touched him. There were little bruises littered on his hips much to his disgust. He averted his gaze quickly slipping into the water as he did. If he could burn his skin off completely he would. Thankfully nobody came by. 

When he got back to camp he got a hefty bowl of stew, some bread, some cheese, and some booze. He rushed back to his tent after that. He ravishly ate the food quickly feeling quite discussed with himself, but found the comfort in it. For a desert he ate another apple John had given him. 

Reaching under his pillow for his journal he realized quickly that someone tampered with it. Dutch walked in with a couple of soup bowls before he could muell over it. Setting it down gently he faced Dutch with a facade on his face. 

“Didn’t realize you already ate. I was thinking that you’d be hungry. Do you want more?” Dutch offered gesturing with the bowl. 

“Sure,” Arthur took the bowl sitting down on his chair. His other adoptive father sat down on the bed. It didn’t feel any different eating the bowl like the last. 

“Are you alright Arthur? You’ve been…off…all day today,” Dutch asked concerned. He hadn’t taken a bite of his stew at all yet. 

“I’m fine,” Arthur answered shoving in another mouthful of stew. 

“I’m just worried about you, that’s all,” he looked directly at the glass of booze.

“I’m just a bit cooped up here is all. I got in trouble again,” Arthur shrugged taking another mouthful. 

“Hosea told me so earlier. Are you sure you’re alright?” He leaned forward yearning for what he and Hosea believe to be wrong. 

“I’m fine,” Arthur said with a fake smile. 

“Please talk to me Arthur,” Dutch implored him. “We all know something is wrong. Just tell me please?”

“Were you the one to read my journal?!” He accused curling in on himself. 

“I didn’t, but- (why do you ask)” Dutch started to say. 

“But what!?!” Arthur yelled scratching behind his ear. 

“Please calm down son,” Dutch held his hands up in front of him. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Arthur was scratching his face hard enough to break the skin. It felt like something was crawling all over him. 

“You’re hurting yourself!” Dutch rushed to grab Arthur’s hands away from himself. 

“Stop touching me!” Arthur screamed before Dutch even came near. Blood was running down his face and neck from how deeply he scratched himself. He’d started crying for what it felt like the millionth time today. 

“Hosea!?!” Dutch called out becoming a bit panicked himself. Quickly running over Hosea gasped at the sight. Arthur kept muttering different things over and over. 

“Arthur please calm down. It just me and Dutch. We want to help you!” Hosea tried to get through to him. Dutch managed to pull Arthur’s hands away from himself. He nearly puked at the sight of his fingers. 

“Son! Please calm down!” Dutch tried as well. 

“Arthur!” Hosea tried again before Arthur broke into hysterics and the two were forced to restrain him in fear of him hurting himself further. 

Susan was called over eventually to give him something to put him under. He’d kept thrashing around and screaming. It didn’t seem like their suspicions of something being wrong with Arthur was off. Hosea went and got some herbs to clean up the wounds. 

Dutch sat on Arthur’s chair with his face in his hands. Properly sitting up he watched Hosea walk back in. “What could’ve caused this kind of outburst?” Hosea wondered out loud. 

“I’m not too sure,” Dutch sighed rubbing his face. Hosea went to work on cleaning the gashes on his face. “Mentioned something about someone reading his journal.”

“I didn’t. Maybe he freaked out thinking someone did, but not enough to warrant that kind of reaction. Something happened to him. Something bad,” he dabbed the gashes on his face with the herbs. 

“Maybe we should read it,” Dutch quietly said mostly to himself. 

“Oh?” Hosea brushed the hair away from where Arthur had scratched behind his ear. “Oh god?”

“We can find out why he’s freaking out if we do-“

“No, no, it’s not that…” Hosea dabbed the gash on his soulmark. 

“What do you mean?” Dutch stood up walking over. He covered his mouth when he saw it. “How long do you think he’s had it?” 

“I’m not sure. He was asking about when I got mine yesterday morning,” Hosea shrugged cleaning the wound.

“I’m reading it,” Dutch set his resolve to it and picked up Arthur’s journal. He had to shut it after glancing at it for a few moments. 

Guilt washed over Dutch like a wave. He shouldn’t have left Arthur alone with him. Annabelle came over wondering why she felt his guilt as well. He waved her off in their own silent communication of ‘I’ll tell you later’ look. It crushed him mentally. Most of time from watching other people he noticed that they usually handle themselves a bit more calmly as to hide what happened. For Arthur the soulmate connection and being constantly asked if he was alright intensified everything. 

“What is it...Dutch?” Hosea asked hearing the journal get slammed down on the desk. “Dutch?” He asked again. 

“I can’t read it...the guilt is killing me,” Dutch rubbed his face. 

“My god! What happened to him?” Hosea gasped finishing up. Instead of replying Dutch handed Hosea Arthur’s journal. 

They remained silent while Hosea read it. There were pictures Arthur sketches too. A deep sadness and anger flowed through his veins. With a weary heart he didn’t jump to go to hunt down the man. 

Though they weren’t soulmates Hosea and Dutch both knew what the other was feeling then. Their bond had grown strong in the years that they knew each other. They just stared at into each other’s eyes unmoving for a few minutes. 

“We need to leave their territory before he decides to kidnap Arthur,” Dutch finally spoke up for the two of them. The somber atmosphere made them appear and feel older than they were. 

Sparing a glance at Arthur Hosea could only nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact in a panic attack I’ve scratched myself so hard I bled. I don’t remember doing it either because I forget my panic attacks as they’re happening. A sort of 3 minute memory.


	3. Dead Dove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fucked up shit man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is slowly sinking to turning into the most fucked up thing I’ve ever written. Surprisingly I’ve written worse, but I refuse to even open the document. The Resident Evil fandom 2017 January-? Of that year...it was called When We Fall...I think...that was the worst thing I wrote and I refuse to repost it, currently.

Arthur wasn’t happy when he woke up. His face hurt and there was gunk on it from what he could feel. The last thing he remembered was Dutch walking into his tent with a couple of bowls of food. After that it felt like a dream, a distant memory, fragments put together like a patchwork blanket veiled in a dark haze. It hurt for him to try to process to try and remember so he stopped. 

He tried to move his hands, but found that they were tied down to his cot. With a deep sigh he wondered what he did now. Resolving to try and see if there was anyone in his tent he opened his eyes. It was the late morning, closer to the afternoon. Turning his head to the side he saw Annabelle sleeping on his chair. 

She had her head on her bible while napping. Prayer beads tangled in her fingers. They were a gift from Dutch because she’d lost her original ones when she decided to be with him. He let her pick out any one she wanted. Any. She tested his faith to her by picking the most expensive one. They were absolutely beautiful though. To some it looked like a child assembled it, but each bead was a different material to represent different things. 

Her dark brown hair was tied up in a French braid that was cooled up in a bun. She wore her Sunday best today. Despite not attending church anymore she still hadn’t broken that habit. How her and Dutch ended up being soulmates confused even them, but they still loved each other deeply. 

“Ma’am?” Arthur called out to her. His voice trembled slightly. This position he was in made him feel powerless and defenseless. He knew nothing bad would happen to him while he was at camp, but he couldn’t help to not feel this way. 

Annabelle yawned sitting up and rubbing the crinkles in her face smooth from sleeping on such a surface. She flashed him a warm smile and put the beads into her pocket. Holding her bible in her lap she cleared her throat. 

“You feeling better?” She asked him leaning forward and reaching out to pet his hair lightly. He flinched away so she retracted her hand and placed it back on her bible uncomfortably. 

“I don’t remember why I’m here,” he glanced at the bonds around his wrists. “Or what happened to be tied down.”

She frowned and then pursed her lips. “You hurt yourself because…” she grew hesitant in what words would be wise to use next. “We’re all worried about you. When Dutch kept asking you panicked...Hosea and him were so worried about you because you acted so out of character all day yesterday that they read your journal.”

“Oh no!” He teared up. They couldn’t have done so. If they did they all could be in great danger. 

“Arthur!” Annabelle ground him back to reality cupping his cheek lightly. “It’s alright. It’s alright. You’re safe. I’ve been in your position before. I know it hurts now but-“

“At least he wasn’t your soulmate though,” Arthur sniffled turning his face away from her. He didn’t want to talk to her anymore. Nobody would understand what he is going through. 

She left and almost instantly after John walked in carrying a knife. The dirt covered teen looked more raccoon than human. With a big grin he held a finger to him mouth in a gesture to remain quiet. He cut the ropes off of Arthur’s wrists setting him free and left gesturing for Arthur to follow him. 

Quickly standing up he followed John out the tent and to a tree nearby and followed him up it. Once they both were up the tree he watched John sit down in the shade of it. Arthur assumed that he did this all of the time. He followed suit and sat down next to him watching his parents begin to search for him below. 

“Why’d you cut me free?” He asked, John seemed more focused on observing the people in camp like he was studying them. 

“Because I wouldn’t want to be tied up. People call me slow. I ran away from the orphanage because they were close to sending me to a sanitarium. They’re afraid to lose you. It scares them to think that because of how powerful the soul bond is that you’d let him beat, rape, and eventually murder you because you’d be too powerless to stop it. 

“In the stories I read the bonds are so powerful sometimes that you can feel where the other person is, or that you can get the same wounds as them. Like feel each other’s pain. Sometimes they kill them from heartbreak. Poor Juliet died of heartbreak having seen Romeo dead. They’re afraid that your soul bond is strong enough to let him hurt you and that you’ll still love him. 

“I don’t want to lose you. You’re my big brother. I love you Arthur, and if you leave I’ll never forgive you! I may not always be able to express it properly-ooooooh! Look over there! It’s a raccoon!” 

“John,” Arthur guided him back to what he was saying before. It wasn’t uncommon for him to get distracted when he had something real to say. 

“Ummmmm...I may not be able to show it, and come off callus from-a lot of the time, but I really care,” he hugged Arthur’s arm and laid his head down on it. 

“I love you too,” Arthur smiled. Leave it to John to bring a smile to his face. Somehow he always managed to be a ray of sunshine even when he was being a downright fool. 

Arthur continued watching the fuss below them go on. He had to hand it to John for getting a really nice vantage point of the camp. John had quickly fallen asleep against him. The boy only let a couple of people lay a finger on him. If anyone else did he’d growl then run off. 

When Hosea glanced up he saw Arthur nodding off with John against his side. Que The Lion Sleeps Tonight meme music on full bass. Inhaling deeply he screamed, “GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

John jolted awake and almost fell to the ground if Arthur hadn’t caught him by the ankle. Dutch was pissed too. Reasonable so Arthur agreed. Well...everyone at camp was pissed from what he could see. John climbed down once he got his bearings and ran off because he didn’t want to be around the yelling. Arthur stayed where he was. 

“Get down Arthur!” Dutch yelled for him, and he shook his head no and crossed his arms. “Get down this instant!”

“I’ll chop the goddamn forest down if I have to!” Hosea yelled. 

All the yelling took him back to when he was young and his father would beat him. His father Lyle said it was to protect him from himself. The raging alcoholic would hit him over and over again until he couldn’t move. ‘When you do stupid shit son, I have to teach you not to so you don’t get hurt from it. Trust me that will hurt a lot more if something did go wrong. This is nothing. I love you son and this is why I’m doing this.’ His father’s voice rang in his head like a bell over and over again. 

He covered his ears and shut his eyes and tried to block it out. It just kept ringing louder and louder in his mind. Every hit and lash burned on his skin like he’d just gotten it. Over and over again. 

…………………………………………………………..

Waking up he wasn’t in the tree anymore, and he wasn’t anywhere where he recognized. Glancing down there was dried up blood on his cloths and on most of his hands. It happened again he thought freaked out. He sniffled out of habit and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. There was some fresh blood on the back of his hand. 

Wearily he stood up and he was unarmed. On the ground there was a few droplets of dried up blood. He decided to just to start walking and see where he’d get. The sun was setting quickly, but he couldn’t bring to pull his quivering shaking hands away from his chest. 

Now he was truly alone. 

Fear told him to turn around and run, but he ignored his gut. The sight of a river caught his attention and he headed to it. He fell to his knees in front of it and let his emotions flood out of him. Screaming, crying, and clawing at the ground. It had been dark for some time when he stopped. 

Seeing his scratched up reflection in the water he turned away. He couldn’t be bothered to take a drink or clean himself off just to scrub the blood and skin out from under his nails. 

Fear told him to not turn around.   
Fear told him to jump in the water and drown.   
It told him anything other than turning around would be better. 

He didn’t listen and almost fell backwards into the river. 

“Heard you screaming and decided to take a look. My oh my I wasn’t disappointed. I politely waited until you were done though. You come back to see me?” Colm said sending shivers down his spine. “I missed you. Your so unique and I wish you stay with me, and not only because we’re soulmates either, but because I really like you Arthur.”

He stepped closer to Arthur and hugged him tightly. The young man was trembling in his arms. All of his tough facade was broken by him in their last encounter. 

“Let me go,” he cried trying to push him away. 

“I’m not going to let you hurt yourself more sweetheart. I know those wounds all over you were self inflicted. Swear I felt them rake over my skin. Now since I see that Dutch ain’t taken care of you very well because being away from your soulmate does that. You’re gonna be staying with me and my brother’s gang from now on,” he kissed Arthur sweetly. The younger could tell that all the sweetness was lies. Their bond screamed it. 

“Let me go!” Arthur shoved him. 

“Do I need to teach you to behave?” Colm threatened him tightly gripping his biceps. 

“Let me go!” Arthur screamed at the top of his lungs trying desperately to move away. 

“Shut up!” Colm shook him harshly. 

“Get the FUCK away from me!!!” Arthur tried getting any leverage to move possible. 

“Fine!” He brutally shoved Arthur on the ground. The world spun when he hit the ground. Colm was saying something he couldn’t make out. He didn’t notice that his pants had been pulled down and that he was being raped for a few minutes before he fully came too. His hands were pinned with knife going through at an awkward angle. 

He screamed at the top of his lungs for help. He cried for his family to save him. Anyone. 

Someone was yelling for him to wake up. He blinked rapidly a few times and he was back in his tent. Hosea was holding him in his arms while he was crying. 

“It alright Arthur. You were just having a nightmare,” Hosea cooed petting him. Desperately he pulled himself away and pulled up his sleeves and didn’t see bruises and scratches. “Arthur you’re safe. You’re safe.” Hosea reassured him. Bessie rubbed at his back gently. 

“I don’t remember what’s real and what isn’t?” It came out more like a question with how much he shook. His eyes were wide with terror. He could feel everything that happened to him. 

“You fell asleep in a tree with John snuggled up to you,” Bessie gently said. 

“I wasn’t yelled at? I-I-I don-don’t remember f-falling assssleep,” he stuttered and stammered uncontrollably. The pain in his dream was real. 

“No? That didn’t happen. When Annabelle left you alone John took you to climb a tree. The two of you fell asleep, and an irate Dutch caught you when you fell out because you were thrashing around and screaming,” Hosea held him tighter. 

“Oh…” Arthur mustered up. 

“We should talk about what happened soon.” Hosea said with an authority in his voice. 

“Okay,” He half heartedly said. 

“You want to talk about your nightmare?” Bessie asked him. Arthur shook his head no with a few tears freshly flowing down the river on his face. He shut his eyes tightly letting himself be soothed. 

There was no relief in sleep. He didn’t want to be alone with his mind. The thought that he could have such powerful nightmares terrified him. Reality and sleep both were horrid. At least with reality he was actually safe. Left alone with his mind at night when he was asleep was worse than what he thought dying was like. 

He felt himself being lulled to sleep by the soothing touches. Frightened he tried to pull himself out from the darkness, but it drug him under anyways.   
Another nightmare woke him up later. Drenched in sweat and shaking. At least he couldn’t remember what he dreamed up this time. 

He was in his bed alone facing the carriage. Rolling over Dutch was asleep with his face on the desk. It was probably more comfortable compared to how he usually slept sitting straight up. He looked comfortable snoring and drooling all over it. 

Pulling the blanket up higher on himself he relished in the slight sense of safety it gave him. It was the middle of the night. Hunger ebbed into his mind and he dug into his satchel and pulled out a couple of chocolate bars. When he finished eating it he rolled back over to face the wall and stared at it. He really didn’t want to go back to bed. He supposed he could wake Dutch up, but didn’t feel like disturbing him in more ways than one. 

His gut twisted and he thought he was going to be sick. Nauseous and and pained he curled up into a ball. Something wasn’t right. It ribbed at his mind. Thinking he was going to puke he got up pulling on his overclothes. 

Walking just into the treeline he hunched over gagging. Nothing came up, but the feeling grew worse. It felt almost as if he was being hunted. Like a deer realizing the danger he turned to go run, but a hand clamped over his mouth and he was pinned with his back against the tree. 

This had to be another nightmare, but his feelings weren’t as strong in them as they were now. Colm was the one that had him pinned and unable to scream for help. In all his dreams and thoughts the man loved to hear his screams and cries for help. Reality was different because he did hold the power almost like the mark of Cain over Colm. 

After the initial shock wore off Colm brushed his thumb on Arthur’s bottom lip before placing a gentle kiss on his lips. “I couldn’t stop thinking of you,” he confessed to Arthur brushing his hand lovingly on his cheek carefully avoiding the scratches. 

“I couldn’t either,” Arthur whispered fearfully. “Not like you though. I didn’t want to see you again.”

“Oh Arthur, I’m sorry. Please come with me. I love you,” he kissed him deeply using the position as leverage. Although he didn’t doubt the sincerity of what he said he also knew that it was the bond talking. Just like how he was reciprocating the kiss was the mark talking. 

“I don’t love you,” it felt like a hot knife stabbed him in the heart. It caused him to gasp in pain. Yeah he could tell he wasn’t dreaming just by the pain they inflicted on another with just words. 

“I know you don’t mean that,” Colm pleaded with him running his free hand through Arthur’s hair. 

“But I do,” it pained him to say. Animalistic urge ran through Colm’s body causing him to yank Arthur’s hair hard forcing him to look him in the eyes. Tears freely flowed down his cheeks. “Please let me go.”

Colm just studied his face before diving back in for another kiss. This time it was bruising painful. Arthur’s body froze as adrenaline pumped through his veins. Catatonic paralysis is the freeze response of adrenaline. It reduces pain and feeling as the mind anticipates something horrible to happen that it can’t run or fight. 

His tongue forced its way inside his mouth. His hands curled into Colm’s shirt. The older man’s other hand slipped down to the small of his back to force his torso against his. 

So close to camp yet so far. If he woke Dutch up he wouldn’t be in this position right now. His own need not to inconvenience others came back to hurt him. Colm was grinding himself against him. He could feel his mind laxing and slipping as the adrenaline worked in his body. His hands dropped to his sides and his body and mind went numb to the world. 

He didn’t noticed that he was picked up and being taken further and further away from camp. On a horse and away from home. Away from his family. His parents. His brother. Away from safety. 

He had no idea where he was going, or rather where he was being taken. Somewhere he didn’t recognize. His mind drifted off into sleep. 

…………………………………………………………..

“Wake up sweetheart!” Colm shook his shoulder harshly. He was in a room his didn’t recognize. Just about morning according to the light. Where was he? Out the window he didn’t see the tips of the trees, just the sky. 

“..........” Arthur just stared at him realizing the sticky feeling down below. On the stand was a bottle of drugs and a syringe. He wasn’t wearing anything either. “What the hell did you do to me!?!”

“I’m helping you come around to me. I know I’m doing the right thing. The universe made us soulmates. Therefore we were destined to be together. I’m just helping you realize it,” Colm pulled the blanket off and took off what he was wearing. 

“Colm! Please stop!!!” Arthur yelled bracing himself at the man climbed over him. 

“I’ll make love to you until you realize it,” Colm promised with a kiss.


	4. Johns Journal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It makes me feel less alone to write John as myself.”  
> -Ark666 (Chapter 1 Reply to Comment)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t like this chapter because it made me look over my own scars...it hurt. 
> 
> This originally was a third person written chapter, but it worked better in journal format.

Dear journal-diary-thing, 10/26/1888 2:37 PM

Hosea gave me this awhile back to write down feelings and stuff since I don’t like to talk very much. I don’t write down very much since I don’t like to do so. Arthur loves to write things down so Hosea got him one recently. I’m assuming he’ll get him another one though from what I’m hearing below me. 

So much of my time is spent watching and listening to people. A lot of time...so much time used trying to memorize how to act normally. They know I’m not normal sometimes I wonder why I even bother trying. My voice is monotone and I’m not expressive enough according to Dutch. There are times where those I consider family make fun of me. 

When I read the stories of happy perfect families it brings a longing and sadness to me. I know I’ll never have that life, and I think critically of those around me who don’t deserve it. Sometimes I just want someone in my family to come up to me and hug me and tell me I’m doing a good job. Even though I flinch and cringe, and maybe growl...part of me really craves that. My older brother will let me hug him without much fuss and I know that he needs it. It’s easier than words. Words that I forget and cannot weave together to be graceful. 

Arthur met his soulmate. A rotten man. I’m glad mine is dead that way I can’t disappoint them. Worse yet them make fun of me. So many kids made fun of me when I was young that that’s the reason I don’t really speak. Getting called a freak and being mocked so many times had taken its toll on me. At times I wish that I was gone rather than feel this pain. 

I’m always so angry all the time. I never understood my place in this world. I suppose I never will. I’m trying to get over myself, but I haven’t finished mourning that I’ll never be like everyone else. It’s just hard seeing everyone else happy, content, and confident all the time when you’re not. 

 

Dear Whatever, 10/26/1888 9:10 PM

Arthur finished melting down. Whatever it was it sounded serious. Dutch found out I guess, or got close to it. I hate what the bond is doing to my brother. I’d do anything to protect him! Can’t say the same about anyone else, I guess that I don’t care about them enough even though I should. 

Arthur was yelling about someone reading his diary. He has to be paranoid because I would have seen someone go into his tent if someone did read it. He was the only person that was ever in his tent alone unless I set something down in it on occasion. 

Idono I don't have much else to say. 

 

To whoever reading, 10/27/1888 6:00 PM

I showed Arthur where I normally like to hangout and watch people, and tried talking to him. Man, I remember why I don’t write in here often, there’s not a lot to say usually. 

 

…., October twenty eighth, eighteen eighty eighth, three forty seven in the night

I dont know what to feel right now. Im even writing in print because my hand is shaking so much right now. I killed the brother of Arthurs soulmate. I dont know what to feel. Im terrified because i almost died. 

Was on the ground watching Arthur and his soulmate before I could go get anyone else. A gun in my face pulled me away from watching. The two left on horseback after Arthur passed out. When the man who looked like the brother of Arthur’s soulmate was sure that they were far enough away he put his gun away and quickly grabbed me by the hair and covered my mouth with his other hand he was dragging me away. Young enough to be trained to be one of them. I got his gun and trained it on him. His hands went up in the air. 

I asked where Arthur was being taken

He tried to calm me down which was a big mistake because it didn’t and I yelled the question again. He took a step forward and I pulled the hammer back. He stopped and tried to calm me down again. 

He said, “You and I aren’t so different after all. We’re trying to protect and help our brother in any way possible. We’d do anything to help, right? I can see that you’re angry and hurt. If you put the gun down you can see him.”

“By becoming a monster like you?! Where is he!!!” I responded. The camp was coming quickly because he lunged and I fired at him and most of the camp was there when I turned. I pointed where I saw Arthur being taken and I can’t go on talking about this anymore it depresses me too much…

Hosea’s telling me that writing about imaginary characters about a similar situation might help me express myself. I’m not sure. 

 

……….

The king and the knights set off for the evil castle where the young oracle said they’d be. The fair maidens of the land of good quickly packed to move the kingdom. The oracle would miss the fair land greatly, but the prince shall return with them. 

……….

The prince was returned home a bit beaten and bruised up. The high priestess Grimshawian doted over him while the king mourned the loss of his queen Anna. The evil king killed her after finding out that king Dulinde killed his brother king Sean before he took the throne. King Dulinde lied about taking the kill when it was the oracle Joston that had killed the evil king. 

The good king deep in mourning did not come out for thirty days and thirty nights in his court. The high sorcerer goblin Pearson conjured up the king and prince’s favorite foods. The royal knight Matthew and his beloved took the king’s place in mourning. 

Knight Matthew led the kingdom into safer lands. The oracle is disappointed because they moved into a castle for the impending magical storm that lasts a few months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place is called monachopsis.


	5. A moment of peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hosea encourages John to talk to Arthur and convinces him to help make a pie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact you will bleed out through a severed femoral artery faster than the corroded one. I think it’s the difference of five seconds from what I learned in anatomy. 
> 
> I also flared up my carpel tunnel in both wrists because I do write stuff that end up in the graveyard of unfinished fanfiction. Fun fact, this one was supposed to be part of it originally I just ended up thinking I could finish something...maybe. My rdr2 record is good. Now That We Are Alone should be updated soon as well.

It wasn’t a good night for Dutch. His one son was kidnapped for starters, and his other son was almost murdered. Oh the naivety of it all. Why must it all seem so simple and trivial glancing back at everything for Dutch. As they say hindsight is 20/20. 

He should have been more weary of the men he’d only just a truce with. If only if only. Arthur was raped by a man he’d just met. The soulbond broke both of their minds. When he finally got to rescue Arthur with the calvary the young man looked straight through him as if he wasn’t there. Arthur’s spirit was broken. 

Seeing John covered in the blood of Sean he got terrified of what could happen to the teen because the older man had boasted about what his gang had done to people in the past. He shouted to the rest of the gang that if anyone asked that he killed the O’Driscoll leader. Dutch couldn’t let tragedy be bestowed on the kid. Colm was told that he killed his brother and ran out of the hideout. 

The camp wasn’t far away, and while helping Arthur out of the large house he collapsed clutching his soulmark that fell over his heart. Annabelle was dead; he could feel it. Dutch wondered that if in that moment he was going to die too. He was howling in grief and Hosea had to pick up the mess he was for the next few weeks. 

He had Annabelle buried at a church graveyard. She would have wanted that. It was an undeniable that it was Colm who murdered her. In the plantation house that Pearson found he took the attic and wouldn’t leave for almost a month. His heart longing. 

Hosea took a seat on the floor next to John. The teen had been sitting in front of the fire for awhile. The older man handed him a peppermint stick. 

“Thank you,” John mumbled his mouth watering at the promise of the sugary taste. 

“You’re welcome, I’m sorry that I haven’t had much time to talk to you, and that you don’t have anyone around your age to talk to,” he watched the fire as John ate the candy. 

“I get on better with adults anyways,” John shrugged which hurt Hosea’s heart. 

“A kid your age should hate adults,” Hosea said.

“I’ll be one soon enough, and I’ve been looking forward to it,” John sighed. 

“Don’t wish your life away because it’ll be gone before you know it,” Hosea pointed out. 

“What do you mean by that?” John turned his head to see Hosea's face. The older man met his gaze. 

“It means that if you keep waiting for the future, you won’t ever enjoy what’s going on now. That your entire life will go by just waiting, and you never actually lived. Live for now and don’t wait,” he explained. 

“I think I get what you mean. It’s just...hard is all,” 

“It gets better, trust me,” Hosea ruffed John’s hair slightly earning him a cringe from the younger. “Why don’t you go see your brother.”

“He hasn’t talked since before he got kidnapped. He hasn’t even really moved. At least you can hear Dutch pacing around sometimes,” John shrugged. 

“You’re the only one that can make him smile when he’s down,” Hosea urged. 

“He won’t, but I’ll try,” John got up from his spot. 

In reality it terrified him to see Arthur like that. He wouldn’t move and he’d look at the people who came in with big mirror eyes. The young man had to be force fed and had almost asphyxiated while conscious. He’d purposely thrown up and tried to kill himself with his own vomit. 

John knocked on the door twice before letting himself in. Around Arthur’s eyes were red rings. Not the kind that comes from crying, but the kind that comes from malnutrition. He was clean shaven, Hosea must have been shaving him to keep up some hygiene. The young man opened his eyes from the company, but didn’t look. John sat down on the seat next to his bed. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t visited you since the first time,” John started and held Arthur’s hand in his. “I haven’t been a good brother since it all happened, haven’t I? I don’t know what to say, but I wish you’d come back even if you are different. You said that we’d bake an apple pie together if we ever got ahold of a stove. Uncle even left the apples I picked alone. It’s less than a couple weeks from Christmas and like ‘em Catholics say it’s the season for rejoicing in the world, or something like that. I remember hearing Annabelle talk about the real St. Nick before. That he paid for young girls dowries so that their parents didn’t sell them to prostitution. Well...if I got any gift it would be to see you get better.” Tears swelled up in both their eyes. “I love you Arthur. I really do. All I want for all Christmas’ and my birthdays is to see you smile again. Your one of the only people to treat me kindly and I think that you deserve to smile.”

Arthur squeezed one of John’s hands, and he turned to face him letting the tears fall. John let his own as well. He used the hand that Arthur wasn’t holding and wiped Arthur’s tears away not noticing his own. 

“You don’t have to do nothin’, you can sit and I’ll make the pie. Miss Grimshaw and Mr. Pearson might kill me for making a mess of the kitchen, but it’ll be-“

“You must really be hitting puberty if you’re talking about food that much,” Arthur murmured brushing his thumb against John’s smaller hand. 

“Oh Arthur!” John smiled leaning over to hug him. Arthur hugged him back tightly. 

“That pie isn’t going to make itself, however, I do believe that Hosea or Miss Grimshaw will skin and cut the apples for us given…(that I tried to kill myself with my own vomit)” Arthur patted John’s back lightly. 

“Sorry,” John let him go quickly. 

“It’s alright. I’ll be down in a minute. Just get working on skinning those apples,” Arthur chuckled at the way John tore off downstairs like when he stole an entire basket of candy. 

Slowly and almost fainting from vitamin deficiency he got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans. With half a mind he almost went back to bed, but he pulled himself together and walked out through the door. Carefully he went down the stairs. The banister provided to be really solid. 

Hosea rushed over as soon as he saw Arthur and pulled him into a tight embrace. Although weak he hugged him back tightly too. They tore off for the kitchen when they heard screaming. 

Crimson and ruby red blood poured out from the wound. The ruby red was coming out sporadically, faster than the dark crimson was. He’d hit the artery. John stopped screaming and stared at his arm in shock, he dropped the knife to the ground. 

He tilted his head to the side like he just discovered something, “I guess that’s why everyone always said to cut away from myself.”

Hosea picked up the towel on the counter and covered up the wound and applied pressure. Arthur quickly ran to go get iodine. Susan ran in the room and right back out to go grab the medical supplies. Bessie ran in the room with towels. Dutch even came down from hiding and helped move John onto the counter.

His skin was whitened already. His eyes adorned with dark circles and blood had soaked through the towel. Still wide awake, but in deep shock. Skin beaded with sweat and cold to the touch. 

Arthur came back with the iodine, and Susan with the first aid kit. She opened up the kit and spooled the thread through the needle before Hosea removed the towel. Arthur quickly dumped a generous amount of iodine on the wound. That snapped John out of his stupor. He screamed again. 

Susan went to work on stitching the arterie first. Arthur held John’s hand while he was being helped out. The others cleaned up the blood. When he was all bandaged up Dutch took a seat on the couch in the other room with Susan, and Hosea. Arthur and John were in the kitchen still with something to eat before they’d take another shot at making the pie. 

“You’ll have one wicked scar for that. I can’t believe you didn’t pass out,” Arthur chuckled picking at a piece of cheese. 

“You bet! I’m a tough son of a bitch!” John yelled. 

“Just because you almost died doesn’t mean you can swear John!” Susan yelled from the other room. The two boys burst out laughing. 

“Thank you John,” Arthur said picking chunks off of his bread. 

“For what?” John asked a tad confused from the blood loss. 

“Helping me get out of bed, making me feel something again, and laughing now,” Arthur smiled taking a bite of food. 

“I didn’t do nothin’ but talk,” John said munching on a mouthful. 

“I know, but it helped,” Arthur smiled dropping the subject. 

…

“It’s nice not to see you in the attic,” Hosea said to Dutch. The older man was sitting on a chair. The younger leader was staring into the fire. 

“I heard screaming, and I had to run down. Told that kid multiple times not to hold a knife like that. At least he knows better now,” Dutch glanced over longingly when Bessie entered the room. A pang of jealousy struck him. 

“Knowing John, he hasn’t learned his lesson, but he seems happy and safe now,” Bessie brushed her hand through Hosea’s hair. 

“Children are pretty resilient,” Hosea agreed taking her hand and kissing it. 

“Or ignorant,” Susan crossed her legs and turned her face away from the pda. 

“Hosea!” John yelled bouncing into the room with his hands behind his back. “Can you help us cut up the apples? Arthur ain’t allowed to have a knife, and I don’t think I should currently.”

“Of course, can you help too Dutch?” Hosea caught the raven haired male’s attention. He glared back at him. “You need to do something other than mope around.”

The man grumbled something under his breath, and lead the teen back into the kitchen. He took the knife from his hands that the teen had behind him. Didn’t bother scolding him for this since the teen looked like a ghost. Hosea followed swiftly behind giving a soft peck to Bessie before exiting the room. 

It was too difficult for Dutch to see Hosea and Bessie together since his loss. A twisted part of his mind thought to kill Bessie and go on a murder spree killing happy people. That was too vain even for him. 

However, for just a few moments it felt like the four of them were a happy little family in the kitchen. The boys fell asleep at the table after eating all of the leftover sugary goo since they made it a dutch apple pie. (Brown sugar, butter, and a little bit of flour; makes the top crust). The two men carried them off to bed after setting the pie out to cool. 

John had been sleeping in some location in the house. If Pearson has to guess John had been sleeping in one of the cabinets. Hosea checked over the wound once more before nodding to Dutch for them to leave the room. He blew out the small candle as they left. 

After shutting the door softly Dutch turned to Hosea’s crossed arms. He gave his friend his signature smile facade. “Is there a problem Hosea?”

“Yes there is a problem,” he nodded. 

“Do you mind indulging me then?” Dutch laughed soundlessly. The smile never reached his eyes. 

“You were staring at Bessie earlier, and I know it’s unreasonable, but I got this feeling-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down…better?” He asked rhetorically taking Hosea’s hands and held them. Sheepishly he avoided Hosea’s concerned gaze as he sighed. Making eye contact he spoke once more, “I was jealous of her.”

“What?” Hosea gasped. 

In the other side of the wall John woke up and scooted away from Arthur a bit. He was sprawled out at almost the entire fucking bed. Now laying on the edge of the bed Arthur rolled over and threw his arm over a now very awake and irritated John. He’d move to sleep somewhere else once Dutch and Hosea left the hallway. The walls were like paper, stupid Victorian era shit. 

“I am. I love you Hosea, and I know that Bessie doesn’t have much time left, and I won’t act on my feelings because I know how much you love her, but maybe after you might consider us, I’m rambling, it’s just that I- I really care for you and I wanna see you happy, and I know…-(that I haven’t been the greatest of all people)”

Hosea cut Dutch off with a soft kiss on his lips. He broke it off as quickly as he started it. Dutch let go of his hands. The older man cupped Dutch’s cheek. “I love you too, it’s odd to say, but...I feel the same way about you as I do Bessie.”

Hosea caressed his cheek tenderly. 

“My soulmark is gone,” Dutch leaned into the touch and intertwined his hand with Hosea’s at his cheek. 

“I wonder what that must mean, but I think that I do...I have to go for now, (but you know I want to stay with you too). Like you said Bessie only has maybe another month or so. It’s something wrong with her brain,” Hosea started to walk off. They didn’t break their hand hold until it became physically impossible to. 

“I’ve been here and I’ll continue to be here, (because I’d do anything for you)” Dutch let his hand pendulum as it fell. 

Well this adds to John’s list of things he’s not supposed to know. Arthur had ended up trapping him here for the night. He’d fully wrapped both arms around him like a stuffed animal when he was starting to have a nightmare.


End file.
